


Ribbon

by sh_wright890



Series: JEM Week 2015 [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: I didn't know what a spitroast was until literally two weeks ago, JEM Week, Multi, Oh My God, Spitroasting, and I wrote this LAST YEAR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sh_wright890/pseuds/sh_wright890
Summary: Ribbons are good for more than just looking pretty.





	

I wasn’t sure where the ribbon came from. Maybe Eren found it while he was digging through the drawers around the apartment. Hell, Marco could’ve picked it up from the dollar store with the hopes of making a big, extravagant bow for the tree topper since ours fell off the tree and broke while somebody--cough, me and Eren, cough--was rolling around on the floor.

The ribbon was thick and had a satiny feel to it, and it was a deep red color. Streaks of gold ran through it. It was quite pretty, to be honest, but I didn’t care how it looked. It could’ve been black and blue, purple and green. Fuck, it could’ve been rainbow colored and coated with glitter for all I cared. All I knew was that this ribbon was tied around my wrists, binding me to the headboard of our bed. 

I certainly wasn’t complaining. Not at all. Far from it. My arms strained with the fabric, but it wasn’t because I was trying to break free. Marco was riding me into the God damned sunset, but I couldn’t see him past Eren who was perched over me, knees on either side of my head as I worked his dick with my tongue. No, I wasn’t struggling to get out of here, I was struggling with not being able to hold either one of my boys as we climbed higher and higher. 

Eren’s head hung down as he struggled to breathe at a steady pace. His hands were gripping the headboard hard if his white knuckles were any indication to go by. Marco continued to lift and drop, grind and wiggle against my hips like there was no tomorrow, bracing himself on Eren’s shoulders. 

“F-fuck, Jean,” Eren whimpered followed by several moans. “Give it to me. Please. Pleaseplease _ please. _ ”

My arms strained against the ribbons again as I took as much of him in as I could, relaxing my throat and moaning low. His hips rocked forward desperately, and I swallowed around him. He cried out and bit his lip hard.

“Such pretty sounds, Eren,” Marco moaned. His voice was low and rough. The rhythm of his hips grew erratic, and I knew he had to be close. I bucked up, meeting him halfway, the feel of him around me all hot and tight, and  _ shit he felt amazing _ .

Eren was the first to go, and I swallowed it all down. He let out a few more whines as he felt my muscles contract around him. I only managed to last a few more thrusts before I tipped over the edge too, crying out in immense pleasure. Marco didn’t stop, though. He kept going, riding my orgasm out until I heard a strangled moan and felt him come over my torso.

We were all warm and breathing heavily. I groaned softly when Marco got off of me, disappearing into the other room for a moment. Eren swung his leg over my head and moved to lay down next to me. I wanted to swirl my fingers in his hair, but my restraints held fast. 

Marco returned a few moments later with a damp towel. His chest and neck were still flushed, and it was gorgeous. He was careful as he sheepishly washed my chest and took my condom off. When he was finished, he reached up and untied one of the ribbons while Eren got the other one. My wrists were red and my shoulders ached, but I wasn't complaining. I circled my arms around a few times and stretched. 

Eren crawled over and tucked his head to my chest. I wrapped my now-free arms around him and rubbed small circles into his ribs. He hummed softly, and Marco crawled onto the bed, curling around me and Eren like a protector. I reached down blindly for the blankets. I pulled them over us, and Marco sighed softly, his lips leaving ghost kisses in my hair. 

Eren's breathing was slow and even, and I figured he was asleep, but he wasn't. “We love you, Jean,” he murmured.

I blinked several times and looked down at him. “Wh-what?” I said even though I very very clearly heard him.

I already knew for a fact that Eren and Marco loved each other. They'd been dating for a full two years before they'd  even met me, and I knew I was lucky that they'd allowed me into their--our--relationship. I was so so grateful too. They made me feel wanted and happy and content along with so many other things.

“S’true,” he continued. “Have for awhile. Just didn't know how to tell you.” He shrugged. “No time like the present.”

I looked up at Marco to find him blushing and smiling sheepishly at me. He nodded in agreement with what Eren just said.

I was at a loss for words. I was happy--fuck, I was  _ ecstatic _ . But I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. Yes, I loved them too, but it would sound forced if I said it right now, wouldn't it? And besides, the last time I told somebody I loved them, I got dumped--literally; right onto the curb at the next stop sign--and had my heart smashed on.

Luckily, they didn't expect me to reply. “You don't have to say anything right now,” Marco whispered, kissing my forehead. “Sleep on it, babe. We'll still be here.”

I nodded and absently stroked Eren's hair. His soft snores alerted me to the fact that he was now asleep, and Marco's breathing fluttered my hair. I closed my eyes.  _ How was I supposed to reply to that? _ I wondered as I drifted off.


End file.
